


His Captive

by tarmetiel



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bondage, Crack Relationships, Crack Treated Seriously, Dungeon, Identity Reveal, Light BDSM, M/M, Mirkwood, Mystery Character(s), Prison, Prison Sex, Secret Relationship, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 02:43:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5810518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarmetiel/pseuds/tarmetiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It depended on his captive’s mood, what they would do today.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Captive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Saentorine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saentorine/gifts).



It depended on his captive’s mood, what they would do today.

Their activities always depended on his captive’s mood, at least at the beginning of their sessions. His captive had such a delicate balance of sanity that after they had begun there was no way to alter the course of actions. It was unfortunate that the balance was so delicate, but there was an interesting dichotomy between the screams of ecstasy and the wails of agony when switched so suddenly that it gave him all the more pleasure.

Of course, there were repercussions. Some days he would walk from the dungeon with blood dripping from a bite in his arm, or with a slight limp. Those were the times when, instead of constantly switching from one mind to the next, his captive slammed into the mind that disliked the practices inflicted.

His captive could be rather violent.

He quickened his pace, not wanting to catch the guards leaving their shift. His breath hitched, excited. He had not visited his captive in far too long. He, of course, could never have regular meetings. His family, his people, would find constant disappearances strange, therefore he cleverly was so irregular in his vice that no one guessed.

Forbidden love was one thing, this was quite another.

He descended towards the dungeon with ease, taking care to retrace his own steps in case someone followed him. He had dressed as a guard, not only to blend in but so as the object of his fascination could not discern his identity either. It was important that no one, not even his captive, knew of this.

As he strode through the dungeon, passing the various doors without a glance, his mind was on one thing and one thing only; and nothing at this point could distract him from the hardness in his breeches. It strained against the beautifully woven fabric, twitching with every new thought the captive brought to his mind.

There was only one release, and it was down this hallway.

The wooden door was thick and heavy. The lock, which ought to loudly scrape against itself, moved smoothly to opening. He slowly, tenderly, opened the door silently. He knew the hinges ought to squeak. He knew that by greasing both of these mechanisms if his captive ever tried to escape his guards would not hear. He knew this, but his secrecy was vital and so had to take the chance.

He knew that part of his captive would never leave him.

Stepping into the dark cell, the door drifted noiselessly shut behind him. Before him sat his captive, whose small frame quaked at the sight of him. He watched with a twisted pleasure as his captive glanced up at him in loving fear.

With a tender hand, he knelt down and pet his captive’s hair. He smiled, his hand drifting down to cup his captive’s chin, thumb grazing along his captive’s mouth. His captive, maintaining eye contact, sucked his thumb into his hot mouth, and smiled at his muted groan. Encouraged by this, his captive moved to suck his fingers with eagerness to please. His captive’s hand drifted to feel his hardness through his breeches. His groan was silent on his lips, his mouth open and wanting.

He loved this mood.

There was a hitch in his captive’s breath. He knew this mood would not last. Drawing his fingers out of his captives mouth, letting his captive’s spit coat them liberally, he got his breath under control. With his other hand, he spun his captive around suddenly and pushed him to the ground. His captive groaned loudly, rutting his hard dick against the floor, desperate for friction. He stopped that with a sharp slap to his captive’s ass.

“Are you going to be a good boy for me today?” His voice was soft in volume, but harsh in command.

“Yes. Yes. Be a good boy.” His captive’s voice was choked with need.

“Good boy.” He soothed his captive’s ass with his hand, squeezing and rubbing it tenderly.

With his spit-soaked fingers, he began to work his captive’s hole open. Slowly inserting a finger in, his captive groaned loudly. He spit on his captive’s ass, adding to his captive’s own spit in lubricating his hole. He pumped his finger in once, twice. Spitting on his captive’s hole, he added a second finger. His captive groaned appreciatively, moving against his fingers. He watched as his captive fucked himself on his fingers, starting slowly, but getting more frantic as he continued. His captive’s paced slowed with the addition of a third finger.

His eyes were dark with lust, and his mind was not clear. With a shake of his head, he removed his fingers from his captive, who cried out wantonly at the loss. He moved to grab his captive’s hands, binding them together with a thin, silver like rope, then tying that to a small ring in the floor. He then moved to first one foot, then the other, tying his captive in such a way that his captive’s legs were spread wide open, gaping ass presented to him.

He smiled at the sight.

It was good that he had remembered to bind his captive, even belatedly, for the elusive balance of his captive’s sanity shifted suddenly. His captive’s voice, no longer filled with need, screamed obscenities. He ripped his captive’s loincloth off of his waist and shoved it into his captive’s mouth. He then smacked his captive’s ass in quick succession, and shoved his fingers into his hole. Pumping his hand harshly, he smacked his captive’s ass again.

His captive fought. Against the bonds, against the intrusion, against the gag.

He smiled once again at the sight, for it only fueled him more.

Ripping his fingers out of his captive’s ass, he fumbled with his breeches lacing. Finally, his hard cock sprang from its prison. Long and thick, his dick was already leaking pre-cum in expectation. With little ceremony, he spat on his own hand and worked his length. Once he was satisfied with how slick it had become, he guided it to his captive’s entrance.

Brushing the head of his cock against his captive’s battered hole, he heard a tender whimper. His captive’s mind had swayed again, and now his captive lay trembling in anticipation. With far more gentleness, he laid a hand against his captive’s back and slowly entered his waiting hole.

With each inch, he found greater pleasure.

He bottomed out, his balls swinging softly to bump against his captive’s, causing both of them to groan shamelessly. Suddenly, his captive’s inner ass clenched. His captive, whose mind once again had swayed, started to fight against the intrusion, but due to the bindings was effectively fucking himself on his cock. His captive tried to pull himself off his cock, only to be pulled back by the ties on his feet.

After a few minutes of attempting, his captive gave up and began to thrash wildly. He stopped this with a heavy hand on his captive’s upper back, pushing him into the ground tightly. His captive’s ass lifted higher in the air with this action, he took the opportunity to give his captive a second round of slaps to his ass cheeks which bounced with his effort.

Soothing his captive’s ass, he began to rock slowly, his dick moving minutely. He then began to pull out further, and slam his cock in hard, their balls slapping together. Increasing his pace, still holding his captive down, he began to fuck him properly.

His captive groaned, unwillingly, but soon changed once again. His captive, muffled by the gag, was begging, gasping. His captive rocked against him, meeting his every thrust. He reached around his captive, grasping the bobbing dick with a tight hand. He jerked his captive’s dick hard, causing his captive to groan lustfully. With only three pumps, this captive’s dick exploded with sticky cum.

His captive’s orgasm attended to, he thrust harshly, pulling his cock out all the way and slamming back in, then began rutting in earnest. His captive met his thrusts, still riding on his orgasm. He pulled out, and jerked his cock quickly, cum spraying all over his captive’s back. He sat back on his heels, breathing hard. Reaching into his jerkin, he pulled out a large handkerchief and began wiping his dick off.

His captive was likewise breathing hard, laying in a small pool of cum. After finishing cleaning himself up, he rubbed his captive down with the handkerchief. He removed the gag from his captive, but waited to see which mind his captive was in before speaking.

“You did well today, Sméagol. You were a good boy for me.” He began to untie his captive’s feet, soothing Sméagol’s legs with an affectionate touch.

Sméagol smiled brightly, and yawned.

“Yes, you must be tired. Let me untie you, and put you to bed.” His voice was tender, loving.

Sméagol looked up, meeting his eyes. “Why does Sméagol get tied down?”

“I must tie you, for though I trust you my Sméagol, I do not trust Gollum.” He brushed the back of his hand down Sméagol’s cheeks before reaching down to untie his hands. When that was complete, he scooped up his captive and took him to the pile of rags – old handkerchiefs and towels – that Sméagol liked to sleep on.

With an appraising look at his captive, he tucked himself back into his breeches and made himself presentable. He strode to the door, listening hard for the guards. When satisfied that no one was near, he opened the door slowly, looking once more towards Sméagol and smiling as his captive snuggled himself deeper into his bed.

And with that, he made his way back to his chambers.

 

It was not two days later when a guard rushed into the throne room, eyes downcast in shame. “My king, the captive is gone. Gollum cannot be found in the dungeons. We have sent out search parties to find him but –“ the guard was cut off by an imperious wave.

Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm, sat upon his throne, head in hand. “Find him.” His head rose gracefully, his gaze steady. “Find him now.”

He stood up straight, descended the steps of his throne with grace and dignity. Walking calmly to his chambers, he held himself tall. It was only when his door closed securely behind him, did his tears fall.

**Author's Note:**

> The OTP to end all OTPs, obviously.


End file.
